Dragon Tears - 4/7 - Teen - Charlie/Hermione
Title: Dragon Tears (4/7)
Author: silvernatasha
Rating: Teen
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: Sometimes, something bad can start something good. Charlie/Hermione.
Word Count: 948.
Hospitals never normally bothered Hermione. Her parents were dentists, so even their house was spotless. It wasn’t the cleanliness or the smell or anything like that which was making Hermione’s skin crawl, though. Instead, it was the knowledge of why she was there. Why they were in a hospital instead of doing their rounds and checking on the dragons.
Coughing, she sipped the potion that the Healer had given her. The smoke had got into her lungs and her chest still felt tight, but she couldn’t stay in her room. After a couple of hours, the room had started to make her feel claustrophobic and she couldn’t just sit in there waiting to be discharged when she knew her colleagues were in a much worse condition than her.
Mark and Addie, who had been out checking the Peruvian Vipertooth at the time of the accident, had gone back to the reserve to check out the damage. There wasn’t really much left to check out, but Hermione couldn’t blame them if they couldn’t bear to be around the hospital. Jess was sleeping, her cuts and bruises all but healed and Pete was suffering from smoke inhalation, much like Hermione.
Miranda was awake, albeit looking rather pale. She’d been demanding coffee in broken Romanian when Hermione had been to visit her, much to Hermione’s amusement. When the nurse left, Miranda had smiled wanly at Hermione. “It’s all my fault,” she said softly.
“How?” Hermione asked, a slight rasp to her voice.
Leaning back on the pillows, Miranda pulled a face. “Think about it, Hermione. The parcel that exploded,” she stumbled over the word slightly, barely able to bring her self to say it, “was addressed to me. Someone did this because of my father.”
Hermione bit her lip. She’d had a horrible suspicion that Miranda’s father came into the picture somewhere, but the idea that someone would try to get to him through his daughter gave her chills. Her father’s position was something that Miranda tried her best to ignore and move beyond. He’d been an influential politician all Miranda’s life but now, as the Governor of American Magic, he was gaining a lot of attention for some of his policies.
Some of these policies had garnered large-scale protests that had only just avoided being detected by Muggles. Hermione felt sick to her stomach that someone would do this not only to Miranda, but to other people who had nothing to do with her father. “No-one’s going to blame you,” Hermione said softly. She took another sip of her potion; it eased her aching throat.
Miranda sighed tiredly. “I’m going to blame myself enough for everyone. How can I carry on working at the reserve what’s happened to everyone?” She closed her eyes, pain flashing briefly across her face. “Have you seen Charlie yet?”
Hermione shook her head. “No.”
Miranda looked surprised. “Really? You haven’t. I would have thought that you’d’ve gone to see him before you saw me.”
“Why?”
“Because…” Miranda looked a little embarrassed and Hermione could feel her own cheeks starting to flush. “Just because.” She licked her lips. “Do you know how he is? He was… holding the parcel when it…” Miranda trailed off, looking away.
“His hand,” Hermione said softly.
“What about it?” Miranda asked. When Hermione couldn’t answer, her face fell and she shook her head. “No,” she murmured. “You’ve gotta be… oh, god. Oh, god.” She covered her face with her hands, still shaking her head in disbelief. Finally looking at Hermione, she asked, “What are you doing here? You should be with him, not with me.”
“He’s probably asleep.”
Miranda shook her head. “He’d want you there.”
Hermione was silent. For some reason, she couldn’t find it in herself to deny this. She shifted on her chair. “I should…”
“You should go and see him,” Miranda told her gently. “I’ll be fine. At least, I will be when I get come coffee.”
“Coffee doesn’t fix everything,” Hermione said quietly.
Miranda shrugged, giving a slight wince. “I know. But it can’t hurt, can it?”
That was how Hermione found herself out in the corridor outside Charlie’s room. The bench was horribly uncomfortable and Hermione felt just the same. She hadn’t gone in yet and was trying to convince herself that he would just want to be alone right now. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how he was feeling, nor could she imagine how she would react to the loss of her hand. The very thought of it made her sick to her stomach.
The door of Charlie’s room opened and Hermione looked at it a little nervously as a nurse emerged. The nurse looked down at her and gave a warm smile. “Are you…” She paused as she tried to find the word. “…alright?”
“As well as can be expected.”
The nurse glanced towards Charlie’s door. “He is awake if you wish to see him.”
“Thank you.” Hermione gave her a shaking smile and the nurse nodded and left.
Hermione let out a long breath. She stood up, pausing with her hand on the door knob. It was just Charlie. Just Charlie. But if it was just Charlie, why was she so afraid?
If she’d been hovering outside his bedroom door like this for any other reason, Charlie would have called her a silly little thing and pulled her inside. He had something of a sweet tooth, too, so he’d probably have offered her some sweets or chocolate (imported from England because he said he didn’t like the Romanian stuff) before asking what she wanted.
With one deft movement, Hermione twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open. It was just Charlie.
One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six - Seven
Author: silvernatasha
Rating: Teen
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: Sometimes, something bad can start something good. Charlie/Hermione.
Word Count: 948.
Hospitals never normally bothered Hermione. Her parents were dentists, so even their house was spotless. It wasn’t the cleanliness or the smell or anything like that which was making Hermione’s skin crawl, though. Instead, it was the knowledge of why she was there. Why they were in a hospital instead of doing their rounds and checking on the dragons.
Coughing, she sipped the potion that the Healer had given her. The smoke had got into her lungs and her chest still felt tight, but she couldn’t stay in her room. After a couple of hours, the room had started to make her feel claustrophobic and she couldn’t just sit in there waiting to be discharged when she knew her colleagues were in a much worse condition than her.
Mark and Addie, who had been out checking the Peruvian Vipertooth at the time of the accident, had gone back to the reserve to check out the damage. There wasn’t really much left to check out, but Hermione couldn’t blame them if they couldn’t bear to be around the hospital. Jess was sleeping, her cuts and bruises all but healed and Pete was suffering from smoke inhalation, much like Hermione.
Miranda was awake, albeit looking rather pale. She’d been demanding coffee in broken Romanian when Hermione had been to visit her, much to Hermione’s amusement. When the nurse left, Miranda had smiled wanly at Hermione. “It’s all my fault,” she said softly.
“How?” Hermione asked, a slight rasp to her voice.
Leaning back on the pillows, Miranda pulled a face. “Think about it, Hermione. The parcel that exploded,” she stumbled over the word slightly, barely able to bring her self to say it, “was addressed to me. Someone did this because of my father.”
Hermione bit her lip. She’d had a horrible suspicion that Miranda’s father came into the picture somewhere, but the idea that someone would try to get to him through his daughter gave her chills. Her father’s position was something that Miranda tried her best to ignore and move beyond. He’d been an influential politician all Miranda’s life but now, as the Governor of American Magic, he was gaining a lot of attention for some of his policies.
Some of these policies had garnered large-scale protests that had only just avoided being detected by Muggles. Hermione felt sick to her stomach that someone would do this not only to Miranda, but to other people who had nothing to do with her father. “No-one’s going to blame you,” Hermione said softly. She took another sip of her potion; it eased her aching throat.
Miranda sighed tiredly. “I’m going to blame myself enough for everyone. How can I carry on working at the reserve what’s happened to everyone?” She closed her eyes, pain flashing briefly across her face. “Have you seen Charlie yet?”
Hermione shook her head. “No.”
Miranda looked surprised. “Really? You haven’t. I would have thought that you’d’ve gone to see him before you saw me.”
“Why?”
“Because…” Miranda looked a little embarrassed and Hermione could feel her own cheeks starting to flush. “Just because.” She licked her lips. “Do you know how he is? He was… holding the parcel when it…” Miranda trailed off, looking away.
“His hand,” Hermione said softly.
“What about it?” Miranda asked. When Hermione couldn’t answer, her face fell and she shook her head. “No,” she murmured. “You’ve gotta be… oh, god. Oh, god.” She covered her face with her hands, still shaking her head in disbelief. Finally looking at Hermione, she asked, “What are you doing here? You should be with him, not with me.”
“He’s probably asleep.”
Miranda shook her head. “He’d want you there.”
Hermione was silent. For some reason, she couldn’t find it in herself to deny this. She shifted on her chair. “I should…”
“You should go and see him,” Miranda told her gently. “I’ll be fine. At least, I will be when I get come coffee.”
“Coffee doesn’t fix everything,” Hermione said quietly.
Miranda shrugged, giving a slight wince. “I know. But it can’t hurt, can it?”
That was how Hermione found herself out in the corridor outside Charlie’s room. The bench was horribly uncomfortable and Hermione felt just the same. She hadn’t gone in yet and was trying to convince herself that he would just want to be alone right now. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how he was feeling, nor could she imagine how she would react to the loss of her hand. The very thought of it made her sick to her stomach.
The door of Charlie’s room opened and Hermione looked at it a little nervously as a nurse emerged. The nurse looked down at her and gave a warm smile. “Are you…” She paused as she tried to find the word. “…alright?”
“As well as can be expected.”
The nurse glanced towards Charlie’s door. “He is awake if you wish to see him.”
“Thank you.” Hermione gave her a shaking smile and the nurse nodded and left.
Hermione let out a long breath. She stood up, pausing with her hand on the door knob. It was just Charlie. Just Charlie. But if it was just Charlie, why was she so afraid?
If she’d been hovering outside his bedroom door like this for any other reason, Charlie would have called her a silly little thing and pulled her inside. He had something of a sweet tooth, too, so he’d probably have offered her some sweets or chocolate (imported from England because he said he didn’t like the Romanian stuff) before asking what she wanted.
With one deft movement, Hermione twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open. It was just Charlie.
One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six - Seven